Music From Beyond
by Kimjoy
Summary: When Christine starts college, she encounters more mystery, intrigue and romance then she ever would imagine. A modern day Phantom adaptation.
1. Default Chapter

**Music From Beyond**  
by Kimberwyn

This is a tale of the Phantom of the Opera, set in modern day New York, in a college scene. What pairing will it end up with? I'll never tell...until the end. This is currently a work in progress, with about 13 chapters written so far that are in dire need of some beta-ing. So if you're up to it, please contact I would really appreciate it!

**Chapter 1: The Presence of Another**

"Sir...excuse me, sir."

Christine's faint, almost inaudible voice called out. She leaned forward, slightly hovering her upper body over the desk where a man worked tediously. "Sir" she spoke once more, this time with more volume.

He finally took notice of the young woman who stood before him. Peering up at her from over his glasses he sighed out of annoyance and his eyes drifted back to his work. "May I help you" He asked, his voice was anything but accommodating.

"Yes. Um, I believe I have misplaced my schedule. I'm very sorry, I lose things quite often." She paused, waiting for a reply. Her voice was faint once more, almost as quiet as it had originally been. She watched the man as he continued to work diligently and paid little attention to any request she made. "But...well, classes start next week."

"Yes, classes start in three days. On Monday. I'm glad you didn't forget that too, maybe you should write that on your hand." He replied coldly.

Christine bit her lip and repressed her feelings of anxiety with nervous laugh. It wasn't funny, she knew he was being sarcastic, but this was the best way for her to brush it off. "I will no doubt remember that, especially living on campus. But when Monday arrives, it would be convenient to know where I'm supposed to be".

The man looked up at her and made no attempt to let her down easily with her failed attempt at a joke. He then turned towards a computer and asked her for her name and school id number. As he typed in her information, an odd silence fell between them. In fact, there was an odd presence that passed through Christine at that moment. The strangest feeling of a dark, awkward paranoia came over her. She felt as if she were being watched. She looked to her right and glanced down the corridor. At its end, she saw a man dressed in black. His eye bore into her. She could only see half of his face; the other half was hidden by the wall. Her mouth dropped open, but she was speechless, and a deathly chill fell over her.

"Ma'am" Christine snapped from her trance. The office aide shoved a sheet of paper in her face.

"Thank you very much, sir." She was relieved to finally have the whole ordeal over with, as small a task as it was. As she headed towards the door, she couldn't help but look back. The end of the corridor was empty. She noticed that she and the office aides were the only ones in visible sight. It was late, almost 7pm on a Saturday night and the office closed at the hour. She wondered why anyone else would be here, when most here age were at parties or with friends.

"Make a copy." The office aid instructed her, once again breaking her off from a trance like state.

When she exits the halls and walks outside the large building. Her previous curiosity and dark feelings fade as she looks in awe at her new sanctuary. "Edmington" she whispers to herself. Her words tainted with pride and a smile curled up on the side of her mouth. She finally made it to a place where she would belong, a prestigious school of performing arts. Yet at the same time, she was apprehensive. Unsure if she would be accepted, and, most importantly, if her talent would match that of her peers. But despite all this she looked forward to the start of her new life.

Not so far from the building she recently visited, was another which she would call home for the next four years. Only recently had she moved in, in fact a few of her things were still in boxes, but she adjusted quickly to her new surroundings. She even adjusted well with her new roommate Melissa. Christine was surprised at how friendly Melissa. Usually, other females initially gave Christine a quite cold reception, though many warmed up to her later. However it seemed that Christine and Melissa hit it off right off the bat.

"I'm a theater major, I'm going to love it, I just know I will!" Christine's new roommate spoke with joy about her impending courses. "Have you seen much on Broadway?" Melissa asked Christine.

Christine was quite overwhelmed at how talkative her new friend was. However, she was pleased that Melissa put forth an interest at her. She knew she was withdrawn, and if others did not invest time in her, it was likely she would never form a friendship. "Oh, no I haven't unfortunately. I was actually raised in Massachusetts, a bit far from Broadway."

"Yeah..." Melissa trailed off a bit. "We'll just have to go sometime, if we can ever afford it" The two girls laughed.

"So, what is your major, Christine" Melissa asked.

"Voice."

"Really? Most theater students end up taking a vocal class or two, I wouldn't be surprised if we had a few classes together. Let me find my schedule so we can compare." Melissa began to rummage through a stack of papers she had in a binder. "So, do you think you will be in any of the plays this year"

"Um...that's just for theater majors, isn't it"

Melissa shook her head feverishly. "No, no, definitely not limited to us. Especially since we're such a small college. We always do at least one large production where everyone is involved in some way. Or, at least, we try and involve all the departments. Some of the really good vocalists end up getting small parts in the musicals since they tend to be better singers, of course"

Christine took the information in. As appealing as it sounded, she had never acted before and couldn't imagine if she would feel comfortable doing so in front of people. "How do you know all this" She asks Melissa bewilderedly.

Melissa laughs. "Oh, I didn't tell you, did I?" Melissa giggled. "I guess it would seem weird, since I'm new here as well. My mother works here. She's just an accompanist for some of the classes though. She started when I was about three years old, so I was well immersed in the scene before I started."

Christine smiled. How nice it must be for her new friend to have someone else in the world so close to her. "That's great..." As wonderful as she thought it was, she couldn't hide the sorrowful tone that resonated in her voice. "That you knew a bit about this a head of time. I mean, it must make things easier." Melissa nodded in reply.

Christine continued her conversation with Melissa as she unpacked her things. Her clothes were already neatly folded in drawers, and hung up in a small closet that she split with her roommate. Now she took on the task of organizing all her household and necessities and a few accessories.

When she finished, she knew something was missing. She glanced at the small nightstand beside her bed and instantly knew what it was. How she managed to leave her most prized possession in her car, she would never know. But she immediately grabbed her keys and headed towards the door.

"Christine" Melissa's shrill voice stopped her in her tracks. She whipped her head around to face her. "Where are you going" Melissa asked.

"I'm just going to my car, I..."

"Do you know what time it is" The both glanced at the digital clock on Melissa's nightstand; it was 10:45 pm. "It's not safe. It's not safe at all this time of night on campus! Haven't you heard what's happened to girls our age who wander around campus alone"

Christine sighed and rolled her eyes. She laid her back against the door. "My car is only about a block away." She noticed Melissa's face was still disapproving, and highly concerned. "Why don't you just walk down there with me, if you don't mind doing so"

Melissa shook her head. "It really isn't safe, even in numbers. What's so important down there that can't wait until the morning"

Christine was embarrassed to tell Melissa what she needed to retrieve from her car. "It...its nothing." She said, brushing off the entire ordeal. "You're right, I'll just wait until the morning." Melissa smiled.

"Well, Christine, I'm beat. Talking to you all evening has really worn me out" She laughed, and Christine joined in her laughter. Even though Christine's attention was not laced on what her friend had to say. "I'm going to hit the shower." And with that Melissa retreated to the bathroom.

Christine sat on her bed and sighed. She looked at her empty nightstand. "Well, I definitely won't get to sleep now..." she said to herself. Gathering up her bedclothes, she proceeded to read in bed, hoping it would put her to sleep quickly. Melissa returned from the shower, and promptly laid down to rest on her side of the room. Not wanted to be rude, Christine killed the lights on her side as well and retired her book.

Christine slipped under the covers and placed her head on her pillow. Closing her eyes, she tried to hum the sweet tune her father used to sing her to sleep with in her head. But it was no use. She wished she had gone to her car despite Melissa's warning, but quickly realized she was probably right. It wasn't safe, and remembering the man she saw lurking in the halls today, Christine was strongly reminded of this. She turned on her side, and her body merged with the soft, cool bedding. For some reason, she couldn't get the image of that man out of her head. Even though she stood so far away from him, she could see him up close in her mind. And quicker than she expected, she was lulled to sleep.


	2. A Chance Meeting

**Chapter 2: A Chance Meeting**

That Sunday afternoon Christine went to visit to a convalescent home. For the past four years, since she was 14 years old she would visit the residents just to give them company. It was something she enjoyed doing, not just to give companionship, but for her own as well. However, today she was torn. She knew classes started tomorrow and she should keep her mind focus, but her other half persuaded her to not be so selfish. So she found a local home and signed up on the spot to be a volunteer.

When she arrived she was assigned to visit with an older lady who, as she was told, was wheelchair bound. One of the nurses told Christine that the woman liked to be taken out by the fountain. Due to her condition and lack of strength, she rarely got to go outside.

Christine proceeded up a few floors to room 404. She lightly knocked on the door, as she took a few steps into the room. "Ms. Withers... Ms. Withers...", she whispered. She saw the woman in her wheelchair, staring endlessly out an open window. She took a few more steps towards her, and her soft feminine voice began again, "Ms. Wi-"

"You'll have to speak up if you really want to grab her attention." A male voice came out of the corner. Christine was startling, not even noticing the young man who also resided in the room. "She's quite hard of hearing, you know." The man sat slouched in the corner, peering over a magazine. He sat up as Christine entered the room. Her delicate features caught his attention, and his eyes locked with hers.

"Oh... I didn't know anyone else was here." Christine was obviously startled, and stammered on. "I just came to volunteer today and they assigned me here. I'm sure they forgot there was a visiting relative."

The man laughed nervously under his breath. "I'm actually not related. I'm volunteering here as well." He said as his magazine in his back pocket, complete with just a touch of shame.

"Oh..." Christine murmured.

"So, it looks like they did forget about something." He smirked, keeping his eyes locked with hers. Christine couldn't help but smile a little bit in the sight of this charming, handsome man.

"Well," Christine started, drawing her gaze away from him. "I think I will just tell them of the mistake. I'm sure they'll assign me to someone else."

"No! No...not a good idea." Christine was surprised at his forwardness. "I mean, this hospital is full of kids volunteering. It was their mistake, doesn't mean you shouldn't get your credit for it."

A puzzled look crawled across Christine's face. "Credits?"

"Oh, you don't go to NYU." Christine shook her head. "Well, over there some of the professors require it. And a lot of us are just trying to get an early start, so I figured..."

Christine moved towards the older woman, realizing this young man had little interest in her. "Hello, Ma'am."

The older woman glanced up at her with glassy eyes. She smiled, her face was warm and inviting. "Hello dear," she said in a tone equally as warm. "Ryan, I didn't know you brought a friend along today!"

"Well, actually I-" He began to respond. He moved from his chair and walked towards the window, where Christine stood.

"And what a pretty young thing she is! Is this your girlfriend, Ryan? The two of you would make a fine pair."

Christine blushed, especially since Ryan was now standing right beside her. "Um, no Rita. I just met her today as well." He responded.

"Oh. Pity." The woman flashed another of her warm smiles at the both of them, and then fixed her eyes back on the window. Christine noticed she was looking outside at the fountain on the first level.

"Actually I came to visit you today as well, Ms. Withers."

"Rita is fine, my dear."

"Rita, would you like me to take you down to look at the fountain?" Christine asked her.

"Oh yes, I think I would like that very much." Rita was delighted.

Christine wheeled her out of her room. She looked back and noticed Ryan standing awkwardly in the room, not knowing what to say or do.

"You know you can come too, Ryan."

He grinned, regaining his composure, and followed the two ladies. The three sat by the fountain as Rita told them humorous stories of her past events. Christine looked over at Ryan and was surprised that he seemed genuinely interested in what the older lady had to say. At one time, Ryan caught her glance with his, giving her a coy smile, to which Christine quickly looked away from. After less than an hour they took Rita back to her room, said their goodbyes, and retreated to the main desk once again to sign out.

Christine was surprised at the amount of people her age that were signing in and out at the same time. When she walked out to her car she could see the shadow of someone following her.

"Hey!...um..." The familiar voice called out to her.

She stopped, and turned around to face him.

"Um, I..." Ryan seemed to be at a lost for words, and he mumbled on and ran his hand through his short, light brown hair. Christine watched this spectacle in delight. Here, this cool, calm and collected young man couldn't even think of the words to say to her. She smirked. As flattering as it was, the attention she garnered from males always made her feel uneasy. He was definitely easier on the eyes than most. "I just wanted to say I think that's really...dignified of you." He paused, finally gathering his thoughts. "To volunteer like this. I mean, really volunteer, and not just show up for credit." He looked down shamefully for a moment, and then his eyes drew back up to hers in search of a response.

"Thank you." She gave him an sincere smile. He moved towards her, and walked with her towards her car. "I actually started doing this in high school. Not at this particular home, but back where I used to live. Its something I enjoy." She looked up to notice his eyes studying her face, and then his eyes locked with hers once more. Her nerves overtook her and she pulled away from him again.

"Why do you always do that?" He asked, in a soothing voice. He placed his hand gently on her arm and pulled her back towards him.

"Do what?" Christine asked him, avoiding contact with his eyes.

"That! Look away from me." He stepped slightly closer to her. Christine shook her head nervously and once again approached her car.

"I'm not try to be rude." She informed him.

"Then don't be rude and let me call you."

Christine's eyes widened at his forwardness. Only a few moments ago he stammered for words to say to her, now he had the audacity to ask for her phone number. She couldn't help but laugh, quickly placing a hand over her mouth as to not embarrass him. "I...I'm sorry? I just met you."

"I'm not trying to be forward, Christine." He said, taking the words right out of her mouth. "But, do you think we'll ever meet by chance again?" He paused. Then he pulled out a paper, and quickly scribbled something on it. "Here, I understand you don't feel comfortable. But when you do..." He handed her a small scrap of paper with his phone number on it. He smiled at her once more and then walked away.

-

When Christine returned to her apartment she once again nearly forgot something dearly important to her. Taking a few steps back towards her car, she opened the trunk, and found a small box tucked nicely into the corner. It contained her keepsake music box. Looking upon it again, she was quickly reminded that it no longer played music as it was meant to. Later that evening Melissa was curious about the object, and unsurprisingly brought it up to Christine.

"Christine, that jewelry box is darling! Where did you get that?" She asked.

"Actually, my father gave it to me." Christine explained in a sorrowful tone. Her eyes carefully examined the features of the delicate music box, as she study its curvature with her fingers. "When I was very, very young, and I've kept it all this time. Unfortunately, it no longer plays."

"I can see how much that meant to you." Melissa spoke with sympathy.

"It means the world." Christine told her friend, although she knew her broken music box were not the cause of her tears. "My father passed away when I was seven. I always had this to remind me of him, it even played a lullaby that he wrote for me."

"Oh Christine, I'm so sorry."

Christine held back her tears and put on a brave face. _I've grown up now. I no longer need to depend on such silly things._


	3. Let The Show Begin!

**Chapter 3: Let The Show Begin!**

Monday came about quicker than Christine expected, and it was time for her to embark on the biggest change in her life. She had little problem finding her classes that first week, since she mapped all of them out ahead of time.

Vocal performance was by far more challenging than she expected. Just as suspected, Melissa was in the class as well and it was a comfort to her that someone she knew was nearby. Not to mention that Melissa's mother, Ms. Calleville, was the accompanist.

Seeing all the talented students, she longed to perform her personal works. Writing was a challenge, but it came much easier to Christine than the technicalities of voice. And ever since she came to Edmington the process of composing a tune came easier to her.

It seemed like each morning a new melody came to her. She worked furiously at her keyboard and added lyrics with her notepad at her side. Melissa even began to notice how gifted Christine was.

"How do you...do that?" Melissa asked in awe. She stared down at Christine while she worked madly away at her keyboard.

"Do what?" Christine replied. Her eyes never came up to meet her friends, and her mind stayed fixed on her music.

"Come up with a new song almost everyday. For the past two weeks we've been here Christine! You've come up with a new song almost every day. Please, don't tell me you've turned to forgery!"

Christine sighed and looked up at Melissa. "Melissa, I think you mean plagiarism."

"You know what mean Christine. And I was only kidding about that." She sat down on the floor in front of Christine. "But seriously, where do you get your inspiration?"

Christine remained silent for a moment. She gazed around the room, and then out the window. "I...don't know. When I came here, everything changed." Melissa listened inquisitively. "I never came up with things so quickly before I came here."

Melissa cocked her head to the side. "It must be the atmosphere, that's all I can think of. But you're so gifted, that's wonderful."

Once again, Christine paused before she spoke. Her mind reeled and she couldn't decide if she should trust her friend with what was truly on her mind. "When you mentioned plagiarism..." her voice trailed off.

Melissa's eyes widened. "Oh, no you couldn't have! I was only kidding!"

"I know, I know. That's not what I meant at all!" Christine started. "But the thing is, I don't even think of these things. They come to me...when I sleep. And that's why I'm always writing in the morning, because if I don't I'm sure I will forget. Each night, when I fall asleep I hear a different tune. And sometimes in my dreams I hear them too."

Melissa's eyes regained their normal size and a sweet smile crept across her face. "That isn't plagiarism, silly! That's a blessing."

"Yes, I suppose so. My father died when I was very young, he always sang me to sleep and he promised me he would always do so. I think its his spirit sending this music to me."

Melissa's smile faded a bit, and she adverted her eyes. "That's very nice, Christine."

Christine felt a sudden wave of embarrassment come over here. She realized she revealed too much of her feelings too soon. "But you're right, I'm sure its just the artistic atmosphere."

-

"As I've informed you before, one of our first priorities is to prepare for our first showcase. Yes, it takes place in just two weeks. And yes, this is the beginning of the semester." Christine sat patiently as her vocal performance teacher trailed on.

"Our objective is to asses you right off the bat, as we will continue to do throughout the year. We also are doing this to show your parents that we aren't simply sucking them dry of 15,000. It is our first year doing this so we're hoping it goes off without a hitch." He pauses and darts a serious look into each pupils eye. As he looks around the room, he is reminded of someone missing. "My original plan was to have Sherilynn as the feature of our showcase, but an unfortunate accident has prevented that."

"Sir, Maestro!" Melissa caught the attention of the teacher. "If Sherrilynn can't do it, you certainly should consider Christine."

Christine's eyes darted wide open in shock. The last thing she expected was to volunteer, much less be volunteered.

"I've heard her. She composes her own things as well, and she's very good at it!" Melissa added.

Mr. Dinnerstien eyes moved slowly across the room to Christine. She felt as his eyes impaled her, as he held his serious gaze on her for quite a while before speaking. "So, Miss Delaney, you believe you can fill the shoes of Sherilynn?" His thin lips curled up into a sinister smile upon noticing her timid demeanor. He moved his way to the piano, and pulled out the piano bench. "Come then, sing us one of these...masterpieces that you've composed."

Christine sat in shock. She was not prepared to share any of her personal works with others, much less an entire class of new faces. She could barely move from her seat, and began to burn in anger at Melissa who suggested the ridiculous idea. She knew she couldn't sing anywhere near as well as Sherilynn, and her discomfort with her own vocal ability would surely show. Nevertheless, she had no choice.

"Alright." She conceded faintly, and moved her way towards the piano and sat in front of it. She placed her hands on the keys, and shut her eyes before beginning to play. _Spirit of father, spirit of music whoever you are, I need you now more than ever. _And with that, she reluctantly begun.

Her music was shaky at first, but within the first few bars she got a hold on it. Her piano playing flared with a passion. And then it was time for the vocals to chime in. She was taken aback at the passion she heard within her own voice. She sang one a tune that popped into her head about a week ago, which was a piece she was still working on. The lyrics were bittersweet, but nothing too heavy. She didn't dare sing one of her more personal, heartbreaking songs.

When she finished, the room was silent. She pulled her hands back from the keys, and stared at the piano for a few seconds. A few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. She felt her breathing deepen during this time, she knew not whether to look up because she feared the reactions of her teacher and her peers. Finally, she heard the small group applaud her. She looked up at their smiles an deemed them to be genuine, which pleased her. And then she caught the reaction of her teacher. His face remained twisted and sour, as though he was pondering something.

Once the applauds subsided, he felt it was his time to give his opinion. "Well, Miss Delaney, that was...for a freshman, of course... acceptable."

Christine almost didn't know what to make out of his comments. She nodded her head out of respect to him, and slowly removed herself from her the piano and retreated back to her seat in the class.

"As for the showcase," He started once again. "I think you and I would both be more comfortable if we stuck to someone with a bit more experience." Christine felt her heart sink just a bit, but at the same time she felt relieved.

"Christine, I thought you did great, just great!" Melissa told her once class was over. "Ugh, that man. They call him a maestro and he doesn't even recognize real talent."

"Its okay Melissa, I don't feel up to anyways. Not yet, at least. For now the chorus is fine with me." Christine replied.

"Well, at least we won't have to listen to Sherrilyn scream." Melissa and Christine both giggled at her comment. It was true, Sherrilyn had a great voice. But she did scream at times, although she mistook this for dynamics.

Exiting class, Christine plunged her hand into the pocket of her jeans in search for her chap stick. In its place, she found a small scrap of paper. The moment she looked at it, she remembered it was the phone number of the young man she met a few weeks ago. "Ryan.." she whispered to herself. He crossed her mind a few times, but she was quickly distracted by more important things. She quickly stuck the phone number back in her pocket.

"What was that Christine? Who is Ryan?" Melissa asked inquisitively. As friendly as she was, many times Christine wished her new friend wasn't so curious.

"Oh, he's no one. Just a guy I met."

"You met a guy!" Christine was taken aback at how excited Melissa was for her. "That's great! But you never told me, when did this happen?"

Christine chuckled. "About two weeks ago."

"Two weeks and you never told me." Melissa cast a mock frown on her face.

"I'm sorry, my mind was just on...other things, I'm sure you understand."

"Of course. But now you have to tell me all about him! Is he cute? Where did you meet him? Does he go here?"

Christine giggled again and surprisingly found it fun to engage in 'girl talk'. "He doesn't go here, he goes to NYU. And, yes, I guess he is cute." An image of Ryan popped into Christine's head and she blushed. _Cute, what an understatement_.

"Well!" Melissa urged her on. "What does he look like?"

"He's tall, athletic looking, with light brown hair, and... "

Melissa stopped and looked Christine straight in the eyes. "Don't tell me he has dimples?"

"Yeah..." Christine was shocked that she would guess such a random feature. "How did you...?"

"Did he tell you his last name, Christine?"

"No, he only wrote his first name down. But how did you know he had dimples?"

"Oh, Christine, you are new in town! You didn't recognize him, did you?"

Now Christine was truly confused, "Recognize him? Why would I? Is he an actor or something?"

"No, well, actually he did some modeling for a while." That fact didn't surprise Christine. "But, if we are thinking of the same person, that's Ryan Chandler. His family is well known in society. They have tons of money and they do a lot of charity work. You know the library down the street? His family funded that, not to mention a few other places."

"Wow..." Christine was shocked to learn how important this boy was, and even more shocked that he would show an interest in her. She suddenly felt intimidated by the thought of him. "We talked for a while, but he never brought up an of this."

"Well, he probably doesn't want a girl who's only interested his money."

"I'm not sure what he would want with me." Christine muttered under her breathe.

"Have you looked in the mirror recently, Christine?" Melissa said in a solemn tone. The comment made Christine blush, and feel a bit guilty. She didn't even expect her friend to hear the comment she made.

After a moment of awkward silence, Melissa finally broke it. "So, you said he gave you his number. Are you going to call him now?"

"Just because I found out he's rich? If anything I'm less inclined to speak to him now."

"Do you know how many girls will hate you now? Christine, Christine. You have so much to learn!"


	4. A Very Grim Tale

**Chapter 4 - A Very Grim Tale**

It was the day before the showcase, and time for a dress rehearsal. Christine was running late. She realized last minute that dress shoes would be more appropriate for this occasion than more casual ones, and since it was a dress rehearsal she figured she would be on the safe side and not risk being berated by Mr. Dinnerstien. She rushed across the campus to the theater, and when she got there she was greeted by a high pitched, squealing voice.

"And you've had how long to work on this? An entire month! While my voice has been shot for the past weeks, I am the only one here who has a excuse to be off key!" It was Sherrilyn. Christine's mouth dropped in horror. The diva herself was back.

"Well, look who's here." Mr. Dinnerstien announced Christine arrival. She noticed the same sinister look upon his face as the day when he forced her to perform. "Miss Delaney, its nice to see that we're your first priority." Christine was not sure why Mr. Dinnerstien always seemed like he was out to get her. He was rude to all his students, except Sherrilyn, but he seemed to take some type of sadistic pleasure whenever it involved her.

Sherrilyns face was bright red with anger. She pushed her way through the theater and stopped right in front of her. Christine stood still out of shock, not sure what to say and unsure why Sherrilyn was so close to her face. "And you think you can replace me." Sherrilyn hissed, her eyes squinted. Christine started to explain, but was quickly cut off. "Come..." She grabbed her by the wrist and violently pulled her towards the rest of the chorus.

The other members of her class looked worn, although they barely started. None of them said a word as Christine found her place amongst them.

"Mr. Dinnerstien." Sherrilyn's voice suddenly took a sweet turn. "Can we start over, please?"

"Yes, we may. " He replied. "_Adieu, _from the top." And with his command, they began to sing their piece. Christine could sense how tense each member of the chorus was, as they executed each note with proper care. Sherrilyn sang the lead, and her voice soared above the rest.

"Very good." Mr. Dinnerstien complimented the group once the first song was finished.

"Well, they definitely had room to improve." Sherrilyn replied, with her nose stuck in the air.

"Lets start again, this time lets pick things up from bar 32. There was something unsavory about that the last time we ran through it. I need to identify exactly what it was."

Almost as soon as the song started, they were all caught off guard by a large crash somewhere back stage. Mr. Dinnerstien let out a long, angry sigh. "Why must these things keep happening." He muttered under his breath. "You all stay right here! Take a short break but do not go back there, let me find out what it is." And with that, he disappeared backstage.

"It sounded like a set fell over." One of the members of the class chimed in.

"Again!" Sherrilyn started with a roll off her eyes. "Those crew workers back there, what is their problem? How hard can it be to keep those things secure!"

"Hopefully no one gets hurt this time." Another member said.

"And what makes you think it was them, Sherrilyn?" Said a deep, gruff voice from the baritone section.

Sherrilyn shot him a look, rolled her eyes again and quickly dismissed him. "Its called Murphy's Law." She told him snidely. "Grow up and stop believe in your little fairy tales."

"You know very well last time no one was backstage! Not one of us, at least." The mans wicked laugh added to the end of his sentence. The rest of the group whispered among themselves. His cryptic talk confused many of them, all though a few of them seemed to know what he spoke of.

"He's absolutely right, no one else was back there. That can only mean..." Melissa's voice trailed off.

"What are you talking about, Melissa." Christine nudged Melissa.

"So some of you don't know the tale." The baritone with the deep voice spoke again.

"_Myth_, Roberto! Its a myth." Sherrilyn replied.

Roberto made his way in front of the group. He was a tall, heavyset man with unruly brown hair. The look of him alone was enough to scare most, though he seemed to enjoy the intimidating presence he held. He also seemed to enjoy the tale he was about to tell. "Last year was the first year Mr. Dinnerstien handled the voice coaching for the musical. He received several anonymous letters objecting to his teaching methods. Like most sane men would, he ignored them and continued to do things his way. But whoever sent them didn't ignore him."

"Please, they were made up by some silly student with nothing better to do. Probably someone who flunked his class." Sherrilynn interrupted.

"Oh yes, I agree with that. But we'll get to that part later!" Roberto continued with a laugh. "Well, the first night of the musical went off without a hitch. But the last night, during one of the last acts, all the sets fell."

Christine's mouth dropped in horror, as did those of a few of her classmates. "Fortunately, no one was hurt...severely." Many of the students were stunned and silent, a few of them whispered to themselves.

"So tell them, Roberto. Who did this? Tell them of your little ghost theory." Sherrilyn spoke.

Roberto started again with pleasure. A continued on as if he told a story of horror to wide eyed young campers. "Is he a ghost? Maybe. More likely a demon, he's been anything but angel to us! But he was once a man. A man who went to this very school many years ago."

"So, what happened to him?" Melissa asked. "I've heard of him, but never his story."

"He died, right here in this room." A sound of shock and disgust came from the group of students. "He was the most promising student here, and he knew that very well. But unfortunately, he also had a ... facial ailment."

"Facial ailment?" Said one of the puzzled students.

"He was ugly!" Sherrilyn retorted.

"But I thought you didn't believe, Sherrilyn?" Roberto replied through his arrogance. Sherrilyn quickly turned her head away from him. "Besides, ugly is an understatement. He was deformed! He even looked like the demon that he was! His skin looked like it had been torn away, to reveal only rotting bone, scabs and scars! " His classmates cringed.

Christine's breathing deepened as she listened to the description of this man. Something about it seemed to effect her deeply. She didn't know if she should believe it or not. "And he wore a mask to cover half of his hideous disfigurement. You see, his...facial ailment...was only on one side of his face. God kindly granted him that if nothing else! But who in their right mind would cast this man as a lead in Romeo Juliet, the musical version, mind you. He had the voice of an angel! But it was his demonic appearance that did not allow him to take any part in the school play."

"So he took revenge..." Christine's quiet voice interrupted.

"Exactly. He was so enraged! It was only 15 years ago that he burned this very theater down to the ground. And much to his demise, he never made it out alive. Or perhaps, he never wanted to make it out."

"Bravo, Roberto, bravo!" Mr. Dinnerstien remarked sarcastically, as he made his way back out to the stage. "Now if only your singing matched your theatrics!"

The look of pleasure faded from Roberto's face, as he dropped his head slightly and moved back to his place among the choir.

"Tell me, Roberto. Where is he? Does his spirit still roam these halls?" Mr. Dinnerstien asked with a sadistic grin.

"Yes." Roberto hissed. His voice was deep, and tainted with anger. "I believe it does. They never found his body, after all."

"Well, now, at least we can give our problems a face! Maybe its his spirit that threw all of you off key today!" Sherrilyn was the only one who found his remarks amusing. "Anyways, the ruckus was just a few props in the clumsy hands of the stage crew. Everything is fine and no one was hurt." And with his return, they resumed their practice.

The rest of the practice went on uninterrupted. That is, if you ignore Sherrilyns occasional rants and Mr. Dinnerstien's snide remarks. They went through the rest of their numbers including solo's. But Christine couldn't get the story out of her mind the entire time.

When their practice finished, Christine and Melissa walked together back to their dorm. Christine wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill. "Melissa, you don't believe that do you?" Melissa was silent for a moment. "I mean, how sad it is!"

"But it did happen, Christine. The theater did burn down, just before my mother started here, and for all we know, he was the cause of it." Melissa was silent for a moment more. "His spirit does haunt the halls."

"How do you know for sure, Melissa?"

"Some people have heard him, late at night playing his music." Melissa paused, and Christine could tell it was painful for her to reveal what she would say next. "My mother has heard it. Those songs, they're always playing in her head."

Melissa stopped abruptly, which only left a thousand more questions for Christine. Though she was desperate to understand, she could see the pain it caused Melissa and she obviously did not wish to discuss it any longer.

As she walked towards her dorm, a familiar tune, so quiet that she barely noticed it, flooded her subconscious.


End file.
